


The Root of the Problem

by thelordofstarsanddreams



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Amren laughs, Azriel Dyes His Hair, F/M, Family, Friendship, Humor, Inner Circle - Freeform, Morrigan and Feyre Find Out, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 22:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8119258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelordofstarsanddreams/pseuds/thelordofstarsanddreams
Summary: The townhouse seemed empty, other than the two of them and Amren who had wedged herself in the small garden at the back of the building. Cassian had left early that morning and Rhys the night before both with their own duties to attend to. Azriel had returned the day before after some time away and neither had seen him but he had agree with Rhys that he would meet the girls in the hall that morning to train.“He’s upstairs. Go get him.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just another silly prompt I got on tumblr which was a bit of silly fun to fill out. Was torn between making it a modern AU but I thought it would be more humorous in the book verse.

Since coming to the Night Court, Feyre had solidified a friendship with Mor, who had eagerly welcomed her since the moment she had arrived that first fateful day.

It was nice, having that companionship with someone as interesting as the third lady in command.

Feyre was still adjusting to her new life. Trying to destroy the guilt which gnawed at her for having left the Spring Court, but spending time with Mor and the other members of the Inner Circle certainly helped.

“So, Cass had to go and check in on some of the Illyrian camps, meaning me and Azriel, well mainly Az, are going to help out with your training today.”

The physical training had been a big help in helping Feyre cope with her internalised feelings while also learning how to protect herself were she ever caught in a position that she needed it. Cassian was tough, yet she was glad of it. And she knew from experience that Azriel wouldn’t go any easier on her.

“Now if only we could find him.”

Mor, for once, was dressed in heavy every day leathers, a change from her normal elegant dresses and feminine attire which she preferred. It suited her as much as chiffon and lace.

The townhouse seemed empty, other than the two of them and Amren who had wedged herself in the small garden at the back of the building. Cassian had left early that morning and Rhys the night before both with their own duties to attend to. Azriel had returned the day before after some time away and neither had seen him but he had agree with Rhys that he would meet the girls in the hall that morning to train.

“He’s upstairs. Go get him.”

Amren’s voice carried in on the breeze and there was a certain something in her voice that neither Feyre or Mor could be sure of, but it sounded like amusement.

“No need.”

The familiar deep voice rose to meet them as Azriel appeared on the bottom step, look much like his normal self, dark and masked in shadows. Very except for-

“Is that a hat?”

Feyre was glad that Mor voiced the exact same question that she wanted to ask, because Azriel was absolutely wearing a hat, the same kind she’d see some of the common fisher men wear down near the river, but on Az, it just looked bizzare.

“Yes.”

The girls exchanged a look before a bright laugh erupted from Mor, amusement evident on her features, and Feyre allowed herself a small grin, taking Mor’s giggle as permission to do so.

“Why?”

This time it was Feyre who posed the question and the other woman looked so very eager to hear the answer as well.

“I just wanted to wear it.”

“Sure you did. Take it off, Az. I can’t take you seriously.”

Mor took a step forward, as if to grab for the hat, Azriel immediately took a step back, settling himself further down the hall.

“Leave it.”

The warning was almost taken as a challenge, the blond looking ready to pounce on the Shadowsinger for the sake of getting that hat, and as if sensing that very thought, Azriel seemed to coat himself in more shadows taking another step back.

“Oh foolish boy, take that thing off.”

None of them had been expecting Amren’s voice to cut in as the small woman reached up to snatch the hat off of Azriel’s head from behind as she passed coming in from the gardens, merely trotting on casually through the hall towards the lounge.

Immediately, they were able to see why the man had really been wearing the hat.

The dark tresses which normally shone so vividly were tainted at his scalp, like molten gold had been poured on the crown of his head.

For the first time ever it genuinely looked like Azriel was flustered, torn between winnowing away or going after Amren for revenge.

“Cauldron be blessed, Az, what is going on with your hair?”

Mor couldn’t contain the slight bubble of laughter and amusement in her voice.

It wasn’t unheard of for people to dye their hair, in fact there was a little shop in the square which was almost completely dedicated to the powders and liquids which could adapt the colors of clothes and hair.

“I didn’t get the chance to dye it.”

The sigh which escaped Azriel was beyond irritation, yet Mor still looked like all her holidays had come at once. She looked like she needed to hear nothing else but those words ever again.

“You dye your hair?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to question, sounding slightly less mocking than her friend, genuinely more curious than anything.

The Spymaster was silent, the women watching him expectantly, before he realized he wasn’t getting away without letting them know why he’d ever covered up his apparently very blond natural hair.

“I don’t like to stand out. And Rhys and Cass both have dark hair.”

Apparently that was all they were getting but it made a lot of sense, at least, for someone like Azriel it did. He didn’t want to stand out, and given his title, it was best that he didn’t.

“Oh Az,” Mor’s voice had softened even if there was still the flicker of amusement in her beautiful eyes. “Feyre, run across the street and get some black dyes from the vendor in the square.”

With a little nod of her head, Feyre turned on her heel, making her way towards the front door.

“You follow me,” The blond woman left no room for argument as she made her way up the stairs, expecting Azriel to obediently follow which he did. “If we’re going to get any training done today we need to get your hair fixed. I can’t be distracted like this,”

From downstairs, a cackle of laughter rose up to meet them as the pair traveled up the stairs, a low growl rumbling in Azriel’s chest at Amren’s evident enjoyment of his misery.

“I hate all of you.”


End file.
